FIRE
by Atheniandream
Summary: Summary: 'And really, she thinks, what else could they possibly say to one another? They're on the apex of saying the worst kinds of things, the very worst personal remarks, effective to only eachother.'
1. Chapter 1

_**FIRE** - By Atheniandream_

* * *

_**Rating**__ - HARD T (Verging on M)_

* * *

_"I didn't expect you to be screwing him behind my back!"_

_"It's none of your business who I happen to be screwing, Harvey!"_

_"Why him…?"_

_"Because he __**offered**__. Because he's __**charming**__. And because I haven't had a __**date **__in so long that I-"_

_"I don't have a problem with you dating someone, Donna; until you're jumping out for a quick fuck at lunch, or calling in late to the office; you work for me!"_

_"Are you… fucking kidding me? What about Scottie? Huh?"_

_"Excuse me?"_

_"You heard. You think I didn't know?"_

_"When she moved sides I never…"_

_"That's bullshit. When you came back from Parkville, you knew that I knew. Private jet? I bet she was all over you like a rash."_

_"He's just using you to get at __**me**__, Donna. Can't you see that?"_

_"You are… such an asshole…"_

_—_

When he locks the door behind him,

She thinks what an awful idea it was for her to flee to somewhere where they've already treaded old ground.

_Maybe tomorrow they can turn the Women's bathroom into the janitor's closet_, she thinks idly, watching him check every stall as an afterthought; at least that way there would be nowhere for her to run and nowhere private for him to corner her from.

His gaze is dark, darker than she's seen and tainted with the pressure and stress of the past few weeks, hell, and the past fifteen minutes. His shoulders are hunched and he looks dangerous, even to her. She's spent years watching that anger be thrown at people; even in her current state of reeling she's still on the offensive; just in case; waiting for him to strike, to shout or accuse or use that magic talent of anger he's worked up in his gut. His jaw is set; his lips almost mashing together as his nostrils work to vent the pressure.

_And really_, she thinks, _what else could they possibly say to one another?_ They're on the apex of saying the worst kinds of things, the very worst personal remarks, effective to only each other.

He closes in on her; it's only then that she realises that her eyes are filling, and she's backing away, her back bumping the wall behind her. Her eyes flick to the long mirror beside them; watching his face from the other side as he takes those last few steps.

His face is even harder up close, her head tilting up slightly to look at him.

The idea that he's so much taller runs in her head, the words gathering in her mouth as it opens slightly, to then pause in questioning.

His mouth is hot, and slightly whiskey tinged. The idea of questioning it completely drains from her brain, because he's hard and heavy against her chest, his hand pulling at her waist for the closeness as he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth.

As his hand runs across her partly exposed back, it occurs to her, in a fleeting thought, that for a women who's been - almost single handily – manning a purely 'no-strings-attached' affair for three weeks, that she's is almost completely pliable and completely clueless in the face of him.

She **_was_** a seductress, a temptress even…

But in this moment _she's_ _just a woman._

And one completely lacking in protest.

When he angles her head, deepening their kiss as her breaths start to come in thready gasps and his hips push against hers. For a second, she's caught off guard by his fervent arousal and completely dead to a reaction, until he tilts her hips and presses the full weight of her against him. She gasps, wrapping a heel around his ankle and grabs at his back. She can feel the shirt slide inside the silk of his suit jacket…

Later he'll tell her it was **_all her fault_**…

He gasps into her throat, grabbing at her leg by the back of her thigh and lifting it, his eyes catching hers just for a second.

She thinks she's never look so terrified in her life, because he's smirking, even through the tension.

When his mouth finds hers again, the kisses are quickly becoming frenzied like their time is up, like there is no way back and yet she's not even calling the shots, isn't in control to temper it. She undoes his belt quickly as they gasp again in their own timed rhythm, the smooth leather almost fluid under her fingertips as he nips at her neck, encouraging her as the thin skin there buckles under the weight of his insistent lips and work to mark his claim on her,

Branding her _his._

She realises later, _He's the only one she'd let do that… _She still doesn't know what it means for them…

She's not paying attention as he thrusts into her, the realisation that her lingerie is half way down her legs, only a ghost of a thought, because his lips are full and she's pressed up against the cold painted wall and _how can it feel this good when he…there hasn't even been any foreplay… _and then he doesn't hold back and she thinks she couldn't possibly take any more of what he _has left to give…_

"Lick it," He commands, as she looks at his index finger.

In any other moment she would scoff and it would make her laugh, or at the very least double her over at the sheer _obscurity_ of his command. But it's so fast, so primal, that before she's even checked herself her lips glide down his index finger and back up with a pop, her lips ending in a deliberate pout.

It's the best choice she's made all week; and he hasn't forgotten the foreplay…

Her head flicks back, bumping against the wall as his finger plays her like some hungry hippo game out of the eighties. It would be fine, bearable, accept his mouth is only mimicking it _on the one place she favours over any other place on her body…_

She's on fire, from her hair to her toes. She's sure she's scratched down his back through his suit and left a mark. It only seems fitting, all things considered.

And it's only after she's dulling the ends of her orgasm, teetering close to the edges of her resolve that he finally comes: strangely a gentleman to the end, even if she does feel the stitching in her dress tear ever so slightly as he grips it in his fist.

He stills in her; their foreheads resting as she frowns.

It's the first time she doesn't have a joke for him.

And the first him he's not making excuses _not_ to be close to her…

"You're going to **end** things with Stephen." It's not even a question. Not even worth a negotiation.

She doesn't look at him, merely nodding vaguely as he slowly withdraws from her.

It's as if time and space and relativity all pass before her eyes. She's staring at his tie, with blue stripes and slightly purple silk – a firm favourite of hers – getting smaller and smaller _and smaller_…

_It's only then_, that she realises he's darted out of the bathroom. Leaving her.

And all she can think of,

Is how he didn't kiss her Goodbye.

Her lips are burning…

* * *

Possible Second Chapter coming...


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes:**

Some M rated themes. Might move it to M, but it gets lost and doesn't come up in the Suits stream. Thankyou to everyone who's reviewed on the first chapter.

You guys are every kind of awesome.

* * *

**FIRE – By Atheniandream**

**_Chapter 2 _**

* * *

"But it keeps on coming,

And I stop,

But it keeps on coming,

And I just stand still,

But it keeps on coming,

And I," – 'The Sun' ~ The Naked and Famous

* * *

"Rachel, I need to talk to you." Her words are close to her friend's ear as she watches passers-by in the hall.

"What? What is it?" Rachel says, excitement peeking in her voice.

"Outside, five minutes. _Bring a coat_." She replies, almost trotting past her friend.

* * *

She was still worried she would run into Harvey, or that he would call and ask where she was. She assumed that it was obvious, that _of course he wouldn't call_. She wouldn't answer anyway, and at least out on the sidewalk, their conversation was no one's business but their own; but either way keeping it all in was not an option right now.

She notices Rachel tottering towards her, her coat wrapped around her as she hugged her own.

"What is it? You've never needed to get out of the office before?" Rachel says, tying her belt around her in the process, her brown eyes wide and waiting.

"Let's walk, shall we?" Donna suggests, her pace quickening.

"Donna…you're scaring me. What's going on?" She says, trying to keep up with her friend.

"I don't even know how to say this, without it coming out wrong?" She begins, slowing.

"Is it about Stephen?"

"**No**. _Well_…okay; Harvey and I had a fight," Donna says, her gaze flitting.

"About Stephen?"

She nods to her friend, her attention catching as they meander between the sidewalk traffic. "And I just… went to the bathroom, you know, to just take a minute,"

"Like you do."

"Like you do…_only_, Harvey followed me, _locked the door_…"

She's not surprised that Rachel halts, pulling her out onto the less busy section of the path.

"Then what happened? Donna what happened?" She presses.

She watches Rachel piece together her thought as her own face squirms at the possibility of words.

"_No…_ Did you have sex with Harvey in the women's bathroom? Donna?"

"I wouldn't really say 'having sex', was what happened. He," She gestures vaguely, the words seeming too taboo to even admit to, 'me. Up against the wall. _Hard_. **Fucked me**. There… I said it." She finished. It was possible that there was no real way to delicately describe what just happened.

"Oh my god. What was he thinking?" She asked, her mouth opening and closing.

"I dunno; maybe if he gave me the best orgasm of my life then I might not find the need to continue things with – did I just say that?" She says, double checking herself.

"'Best orgasm of your life'? Yes you did."

"Oh my god."

"Oh my god." Rachel repeats.

"Oh my god."

"What are you gonna do?" She asks the red head.

"I've not gotten to the worst part,"

"There's a worst part?"

"After we…"

"Finished?" Rachel offers,

"_Good word_; he told me to end things with Stephen. And then he just, stormed out."

"Are you going to?" She asks, the scandal in her voice as plain as the light of day.

"I guess I have to,"

"You don't _have to_. How do feel?" Rachel presses.

"A bit tingly still, maybe even a little numb."

"I meant about everything. But, nice to know you enjoyed yourself." She hides the smile at Donna's words.

"Rachel… this is Harvey. _HARVEY_." She gestures, earning a look from a casually interested passer-by, as they turn away to avoid him.

"Have you considered that maybe… he is in love with you?"

"No. Don't say it, even it's true, I don't need to hear it… **_No_**, this is just about jealousy. He's just jealous…because my attention's not on him. Men are basically toddlers, and he is no different from the rest of him."

"Donna," Her friend warns, earning a look of kempt frustration mixed in understanding.

"I can't. _We can't_, Rachel. There's too much going on at work. Too much to lose. It's not like you and Mike,"

"What are you going to say to him?"

"Nothing. For now…to either of them. I just need to… _think_."

She ignores the piteous look her friend gives her.

* * *

She'd been staring out of her cubicle and into the hall for ten minutes, the anticipation too much to bare.

She needs to go to the file room.

The file room, had previously been a danger area. A no-go.

Now it was most definitely **_off limits_**.

She suddenly checked herself, remembering that she may fall of kilter when it comes to Harvey, but in everything else she is top of her game. She stands, straightening her skirt as she takes the file and all but marches into the file room.

It's quiet, eerily so.

Maybe it was her imagination, the tension of the past few hours keeping her on edge still. She reached for the file popping it lightly into the top tray as she scoured the options on the console for what she wanted.

"I'm starting to get jealous of that copier. It does get _a lot_ of your attention."

She straightens, hearing his dulcet tone as she looks to see him swagger towards her.

"You're in the doghouse, Huntley." She says firmly; the playful edges of her voice still peeking out through her steely resolve.

"What have I done? I'll apologise immediately," He pretends to look wounded. She still hasn't figured out if it's genuine emotion hidden in humour, or arrogance and flippancy.

"Scottie?" She offers, the word hard and deliberate in her mouth.

"What?" He replies, his face confused at the star trek reference.

"Dana Scott? _Your fiancé._ Why didn't you tell me?" She says. She doesn't sound as hurt as she'd expected to be.

His face hardens then, the lines sharpening in his softer features. "Who told you?" He asks. It occurs to her that he already knows the answer.

"Harvey,"

"I didn't want it to get in the way." He argues, his voice soft.

"What do you know about Scottie?" She asks.

The question seems out of the blue to him; but she isn't about to throw Harvey under the bus. _Not in a million..._

"Dana? She was my fiancé. Or at least, I proposed to her. We were together for two years. She left me for Harvey. Gossip in the pipeline is they were screwing behind my back for a year."

"Why are you really here?" She fires.

"What?" He asks, confused once more.

"If you assumed that, then why did you make a beeline for me? You had it in your mind before you'd even gotten off of the plane, that you were going to ask me out."

"No, not until I saw you. I heard all about you. Secretaries. _They talk_. You know that."

"But still, don't you think going after me, challenging Harvey to a race, **all of that**, would make for a pretty convoluted situation. With you, me, Harvey _and Scottie_?"

"I like you. I enjoy our arrangement." He says. By the look on his face he isn't lying. _How about that…_

"Something tells me that arrangement will be changing." She says, the words hard and unyielding.

"Why's that?" He asks, his words careful as he walks to stand a little nearer.

"Because,**_ Harvey was right_**. You're getting back at him through me. And I was stupid enough not to notice." Finally the venom is out. She'd slap him but somehow she feels over it. Even without reminders of Harvey all over her, still making her ache.

"I like you. It's not a lie. I didn't lie when I said I'd be here for six weeks and I didn't lie when I said I wanted something fun. You agreed. I thought we were clear."

"Well then it's just convenient that in screwing me, you also get to slowly screw Harvey."

"Donna, I,"

"And here's a little bit of information for you. He never knew about you until _after _they slept together."

"What?" The bell is ringing then, his face taking on a clarity.

"Scottie told him before she left, that she was getting married. He immediately felt betrayed by her. It ruined them, and Harvey wasn't willing to be with someone who made _him_ treat **_you_** like that."

"I didn't…"

It's the first time he looks honestly broken. But she's not finished now, now that he's awoken **_that _**part of her.

She turns slightly, taking her file from the copier. "And another thing. When she came to me, to tell me that she was in love with Harvey; I helped her try and get him back. Because that's what I'd do for him."

Her eyes lingered on him until she made it to the door.

The truths were finally out.

She tried not to let the consciousness at having possibly broken a man's plan get to her...

* * *

When she returned to her desk,

there he was.

She watched him lingering by the window; a basketball moving between his hands. Her stomach tightened and against that a little spark hit her groin in muscle memory. It was exposing, feeling like this out in the hall. She avoided his gaze and sat down in her chair, pushing the files together as her hand slapped down on the stapler. She glanced at the clock on her computer that read 5:45pm. She still had so much time left until she could-

"Donna, can you come in here for a sec?"

His low voice made her stomach curl and her hair stand on end as it came through the intercom. It was a completely over the top reaction for something she'd heard time and time again. She slowly rose, gliding into his office.

"Donna I-"

She interrupted him, sensing his tone.

"I don't want to talk about it here. Okay?" She said firmly, her head tilting slightly when he smirked at her interrupting.

"Okay." He said.

"I told Stephen. About you and Scottie. That you didn't know. You were right; he _was_ trying to get back at you...through me."

She watches as he takes a moment over it; processing what that means. "Did you end it?" He asks, an almost-demand in his voice.

"I think he got the memo." She says.

He smirks once more, turning the ball in his hands, before placing it on the stand.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-" He starts, until she interrupts once more.

"Ah! I don't need you to… let's just not. Okay? _This_," She gestures around herself, "Is work._ Just work_. I don't want to…mix the two."

"Didn't stop you with Stephen…"

It's an oddly harsh thing for him to say considering all that she's given him.

"That's because he wasn't _my boss_, Harvey." She said, looking poignantly at him.

It seems to be enough, and he backs off, his face evening out.

"Good point. You wanna go for a drink?" He asks simply.

"You want to leave work early?" She questions.

"Yeah, why not?" He shrugs.

"No." The word falls out of her mouth with a thud.

"Why, not?" He frowns, pushing himself from leaning to standing.

"Because…_No_, Harvey." She grins, the disbelief that he actually thought he could get to her again if he wanted to evident in her face.

His mouth twitches; her refusal seeming to entertain him somewhat. "_Come on_. I promise to keep my hands to myself,"

"We both know you get handsy when you've had a drink. _No_." She smiles, even at her stubborn refusal.

"Don't you trust me?" He asks, his head tilting.

"Of course I do. Just not with _us_."

"Why not?" He looks hurt when he asks.

"Because you'll do anything to get your own way."

"Now, is that such a bad thing? _Was it_…such a bad thing?" He asks. He looks sexy. She tries not to acknowledge the fact,

Because she knows exactly what he's asking.

She straightens, her face nonchalant.

"_A lady never tells_… Do you need anything else tonight? Office related, of course."

"No. Take the night off." He says, his head bowing.

She nods, a smile lingering on her lips as she turns on her heel to exit. She doesn't want to look back like she usually does to make a point. She knows he's watching her this time, and probably in a different way than he ever has before.

They've ultimately changed the playing field. At least they'd spent 11 years trying to stop it from happening. Could be a record… a small victory.

* * *

**_'What do you want?_**

**_What do you want from us?_**

**_To ask you this much_**

**_It's a matter of trust, _**

**_Not an affront,_**

**_What do you want?'_**

~ 'What do you want' ~ By Gotye

* * *

"Hi, Karl, this is Harvey Specter, I got your message," He says into the receiver as he relaxes into the sofa, idly running his hands down the length of his black tie. Something catches in his ear as he listens to the man on the end of the phone; may be a door, possibly the apartment underneath him.

He's proved wrong when he watches Donna gliding down his hallway.

He watches her coat fall to the floor in a pile,

Sees her unbutton the front clasp of her dress, throwing it into the air as it dances, a cloud of fabric falling heavily onto his carpet,

Until she's standing _right in front of him_,

In nothing but lingerie, (_A pale peach)_

Louboutins, (_He'd notice that red stripe anywhere_)

Tumbling Fire Red hair,

_And a wanton smirk. _

"Karl, something's…**_come up_**. Can I call you tomorrow morning and I'll have something for you by then?" He says, watching her eyebrow twitch as her hands rest on her hips, an obvious impatience growing within her. He hangs up immediately, tossing the phone into a sofa cushions.

"Donna…?" He asks, the question airy and playful.

"Do I have to ask?" She says taking a step forward, her eyes darker than he's ever seen.

"Well…**_you've_** changed your mind." He notes, looking her up and down.

"What can I say, _a girl's got to eat_," She says, grinning predatorily.

"Is this payback?" He asks, completely taken with her.

She's flippant, and reacts against it. "You know what, if you're not interested I can just go find Stephen..." She says, whipping around on her heel with a huff.

He's up in the flash of a second, his hand on her arm as he spins her back around and into him; her breath catching as their chests meet.

"Don't play with me, Donna." He says, a darkness in the command.

"I'm not. But I'm not going to be told who I can't date if there's nothing in it from me, Harvey. I have needs, you know. Needs which you were more than happy to bring up to discuss with me-" Her words are interrupted as his finger silences her.

_The same one he'd made her lick earlier_. He's almost sardonic, and definitely wicked.

"What's the sudden change about?" He says, the words serious and level. He wants a real answer.

"Harvey. You screwed me, demanded I break it off with Stephen, and then **_left_**,"

"I tried to apologise,"

"I need more than that. And I'm getting cold." She says, shuffling.

"Is this what you're like with him?" He asks.

"Like what?" She frowns, that fire of objection igniting within her.

"So…_demanding_."

"He was happy to give in, actually. He didn't seem to find it such a problem."

"Donna," He protests, looking at her like she's crazy.

"This was a bad idea," She says, making a move to leave again. This time his hands are on her hips and neither them nor her seem to be moving.

"Donna just…give me a second, okay? You forget; I've never seen you like this before." He says, his fingers playing along the lace edge of her thong.

His words are disarming, because she's suddenly standing like she's completely exposed and it has nothing with what she isn't wearing.

"And…?" She demands, pouting.

"And I can't believe I never noticed what he picked up on in a second."

"Well, you're incredibly narcissistic, so,"

"Am I?" He says, interested as his eyes wandering down the length of her body.

"Oh my god, Harvey; I know you date Maxim covers, but Stephen would have been getting to the finale by now." She says, frustrated as she flips her hair.

"I'm not **_Stephen_**. And I like to…_take my time_." He says, so self-assured.

"Really?" The sarcasm is deep and guttural in her voice at their actions earlier in the day.

"_That was an exception_." He says, matching the challenge in her stance.

"What, Harvey?" She says, when she sees his unreadable expression. "What, now?"

"I just… I really wanted to take your clothes off myself." He says. There's an unmistakable purr in his disappointed tone that lights her up like Hiroshima. She fights the urge to punch and ravish him in one thought and still keep it to herself.

"I wanted to make sure I had your full…_attention_." She manages, her tone dimpling at the end. He's a pro at his, she hadn't realised how out of practise she was with someone who knew her.

"Can you do a back-bend from standing?" He suddenly asks.

"What?"

"Trust me. _Can you_?"

"I do yoga twice a week Harvey…?"

"_In those heels_?"

"What do you think…" Her tongue appears between her teeth, igniting her interest.

"Okay," He says, his hands tightening around her waist as he pulls her against him. "Put your legs either side of mine, and whatever you do, keep them there. Okay?" He demands, the trust in his features as he kisses her. The kiss is long and somehow oddly chaste against their earlier ones. His lips move to her chin, then her jaw, peppering slow, wet kisses all the way down her jaw until he stops at her left shoulder. "Lean back. And just remember to catch yourself."

She frowns, a crease forming in her brow as she leans her head back. She's taken off guard when his hips buck against hers; his lips pinching a kiss on the top of her breast as his hands flick the clasp of her bra open. She pauses, when she lets the heavy wired bra fall to the floor, her chest tightening a little, until he mumbles "Relax," into the valley between her breasts, his hand flattening against back, supporting her. It's only when he sucks a nipple into his mouth and it sends a shiver from her toes to her teeth that she thinks he might just be an evil genius, and lets her hands massage his scalp before he encourages her backward all the more and her hands dart back in preparation to catch herself. His tongue swirls around her belly button just at the moment that her hands reach the floor and it feels like _forever_; she feels so heady, so sensitive to the touch as his tongue trails along the hem of her thong, his teeth catching at her hip bone, sending a moan through her chest.

"Harvey…" She moans, as the kitchen - upside down – comes into view.

"You okay over there?" He asks, running a hand up her stomach, the heel of his hand pushing against the muscles there.

"For now," She breathes, the breath hitching as she feels the silk of her thong down her legs and buries the urge to kick it off into his apartment. Like a gentleman he unhooks it, throwing it past her and onto the kitchen counter. She nearly laughs out and loses her balance altogether.

When she thinks she knows what's coming next, she braces herself, taking a long deep breath, until she feels his tongue snake up her ankle, along the sharp bone of her shin and a light bite on the skin of her knee, before doing the same to the other leg.

_He's teasing her,_

And he knows he's good at it, _the bastard…_

When he finally reaches her inner thighs, she's already mentally screaming out for him to just fuck her, so much so that when his lips finally start to work against her, she feels herself start to buckle, and he takes one of her legs and places it over his shoulder, holding it with his arm. The angle is enough for her breath to come in short sharp gasps, as her hips quiver and he takes the second leg; all the while still focused on the task at hand.

"I," Is all she can manage as the pressure builds, a sporadic, high-pitched 'Hhu' of his name coming out as he changes the rhythm, faster and faster until her hips jerk and writhe in his hands. Her arms splay out, pushing against the smooth wood of the floor until her top half collapses, and he gently lowers the rest of her to the floor, watching her gasp to catch her breath.

For a second she's frozen, half in shock and half buzzing from the pressure of it all…

"Where did you learn how to…you know what, _I don't want to know_." She finally says, her palm slapping against the hardwood.

"**_You really don't_**," He agrees and smiles, bending over to press a kiss on her stomach. Out of everything, it feels the most alien and yet the most nurturing thing he's done to her all day.

She remains on the ground, her legs getting slightly numb under her as she looks around her view of the apartment, mostly sharp white angles and glowing light fixtures, until he hovers over her and the light turns to dark, his hard features looking at her, intrigued.

"Most people buckle before that," He says, sounding impressed.

"I'm not most people." She says, straightening out.

"No. _You're not_," He muses, his lips merging with hers in a way that's so kinky she can't even describe.

He rolls over, laying on the ground beside her looking very pleased with himself.

"Wipe that shit-eating grin off of your face," She says, a smile peeking into her own features.

"Don't act like you didn't enjoy it."

She rolls her eyes at that, a conscious thought of just how naked she is. Once more, the exposed one out of the two of them.

"Why am I always the naked one?" She asks, accusation heavy in her voice.

"You weren't naked earlier,"

"Then why does it feel like it's gonna be theme?" She accuses once more.

"Be careful what you wish for." He says, his eyebrow cocking at her playfully. It makes her smile like a little girl so she quickly looks away to the other side, hiding it as it grows all the more.

"So," She says, matching his gaze once more with one much more even. "I'm naked. What are we going to do about that?" She offers, the devilish insinuation in her eyes.

"I think it's a great look for you…especially with the heels…"

"We're not in a Robert Palmer video, Harvey."

He quickly springs to his feet, offering a hand to her. She frowns, once again completely unsure what he has in mind. It's unnerving to her to find him so guarded still. She can't read him like this and she doesn't know why. When she comes to standing she finds herself shuffling in front of him, her hands folded against her chest. There's a question in her eyes and he knows it. There's a comedy routine between them, but somehow she's coming out the loser as she's still standing in her birthday suit.

He pulls at his tie, throwing it over to where her thong is dangling precariously, and starts to undo the buttons of his shirt as he smirks at her. She moves in to help, until he gives her a look, a hand coming up to stop her and she halts in frustration. He pulls off his shirt, and walks around her. She anticipates the obvious and holds her arms out behind her as he slides it on; happy when it touches enough of her thigh, and starts to button it. Somehow she's not surprised when he's standing in front of her, his hands invading hers and taking over the remaining few buttons, his lips finding hers until he pulls back to look at his handiwork with a smile.

"Wow, you'd think that wasn't the _first time_ you've done up a man's shirt. Something to own up to?" She jibes, waiting for his reaction.

It's priceless and he's somehow amused by the insinuation. "Been imagining me and Mike, huh?"

"Darby, actually. I hear he likes them young." She plays. They both know Darby is untempered with his subtle interest in him. She's made more than one joke since the firms merged.

"All the boys and girls take a shine to me." He says, an arrogance reaching his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Especially in the vest, _Footloose_."

"_You know_ I got the moves. And it was chilly this morning." He replies, satisfied with his answer.

"That's a good point; I never have seen your nipples at work."

"Likewise."

She laughs then, gliding around in her heels to pick up her things that are still scattered around his apartment. He stands on the spot, watching her. It's only when she's finished, plonking her pile of things on a nearby chair that she catches his confused gaze pointed at her.

"What?" She asks, shrugging.

"Where are you going?"

She frowns, "Home? We have work tomorrow."

He processes the information, walking over to her. "You may have done that before with… _but_…" He pauses, and the possible ends of his sentence run through her head.

"I was hoping you'd stay." He finally says, the words quiet but no less audible. His eyes seem to mean it.

She pauses, her face unreadable.

She's completely thrown.

_It was either the most or least successful booty call in the history of forever… _

"I…" She says, her mouth falling open.

* * *

'With our eyes wide open we…

We walk the plank with our eyes wide open…'

So this is the end of the story,

Everything we had,

Everything we did,

* * *

There may be a cliff-hanger to every chapter. I'm sorry, it was the devil in me ;-)


	3. Chapter 3

_**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, and even just read. I keep taking on too much, will try and get the last few Stories finished soon. A xx**_

* * *

**FIRE - By Atheniandream**

**CHAPTER 3**

* * *

_With our eyes wide open we..._

_So this is the end of the story_

_Everything we had, everything we did_

_Is buried in dust_

_And this dust is all that's left of us_

_And only a few ever worried_

_While the signs will clear_

_They have no idea_

_You just get used to living in fear_

_Or give up_

_When you can't even picture your future_

_We walk the plank with our eyes wide open_... ~ 'Eyes Wide Open' - Gotye

* * *

**_"I was hoping you'd stay."_**

The words reverberate in her brain; echoing in an apartment that seems too large all of a sudden. He's staring at her; poised, open and it's occurs to her that he's completely serious. They are hardly ever serious with each other when it comes to them, and yet here he is dealing it out in spades.

"I..." She says, her mouth falling open.

He immediately senses the reservation in her face; the slight twitch of doubt in the back of her head.

"Donna," He breathes...

"I think we should... take things slow..."

"What?"

"Harvey," She sighs, straightening in her heels. "We don't even know what's going on... me staying isn't going to change that."

"Then we'll...talk. We'll talk about it." He says, his expression solid.

"I need time to think," She says, backing away by a hair's breath.

"No, when you get time, _you bail_. I propose the opposite of thinking."

She smiles then.

There is something adorable about his begging.

It's a 'Harvey' version of begging, but begging nonetheless.

"I think we should be smart. I'm... gonna go home. We'll talk tomorrow?" She asks, her eyes soft.

His jaw sets then. "Donna," He protests, shaking his head at her as he closes those last few inches.

"Harvey. You're not thinking with your head right now," She says; trying to resist as he pulls at his shirt for her to come closer. She obeys in end; she has a feeling she probably always will.

"I'm thinking with **_a_** head." He jokes, the growl in his chest offsetting the comment as his lips ghost her neck.

"And that's the problem." She says, their eyes finding each others she pulls her coat on over his shirt, moving to pick up her things.

He follows her to the elevator, leaning against the wall opposite. She walks to him, watching how he stands, the anticipation of her actions in his features. She leans close and kisses him on the cheek; feeling his hands hold her waist as hers linger on his slightly rough cheek.

"Goodnight Harvey." She says, before getting in the elevator.

"Goodnight Donna."

* * *

It's a slow and quiet ride in the cab; watching Manhattan drift into Downtown as Bellhops are replaced by undercover Hookers and deal-makers. It's amazing how much of a divide there is in the city between where they both live; Harvey in his ivory tower and her in the humble quaint apartment.

She waits for the cab to slow, before paying the cabdriver and half inching out onto the sidewalk; her dress and bra now folded in a neat square in her hands.

"Late night?"

When she zeros in on her door, and the distinct voice, she sees Stephen standing with a bunch of red roses in a tuxedo.

_It's like the gods are just laughing down at her._ She sighs.

"That's not apology; that's a booty call." She remarks harshly, pointing at the bouquet in his hands.

"I promise...It's the former, rather than the latter. Although I'm not adverse to the idea," He says, a tight smile on his lips.

"You been out tonight?" She asks, indicating to the tuxedo.

"No. I just thought it'd make a better statement if I wore the tux. Otherwise I'm just guy holding roses."

She rolls her eyes at that. _It's typical_. Typical of her life to have this all happen in one day. The Universe is against her and she's poignantly aware of the fact.

"We said it was only going to be six weeks. 'Just some fun'. Had you not lied to me, we could have had those six weeks."

"I know, I'm sorry. And you're right. I did try and get back at Harvey. But...then I realised how much the fun that I was having was because of**_ you_**, and not because I was getting back at him."

"You're about a day late on that revelation, Stephen." She says. _If only he knew..._

"Can't we just start over?" He asks. She can see how genuine the question is. The sex was great and new in her life_. It's tempting._

"How? You're not staying in New York, and as much as the many theatres tempt me, there is far too much rain in London..."

"We're good together. And I could...stay. Maybe. If I had a reason to,"

"I don't want to be the reason."

"It would be _so_ easy for you to be..." He says, his sultry English manner flowing out of him.

She couldn't help it, it rose her ire. **_She was going to hell._**

"I need some time to think about it. If we're going to start over, then we're going to start from the beginning."

"As in dates? I'm a master at dating." He says, holding out the bouquet. "And you've already tested the merchandise so," He says with a grin.

She laughs, lightly, finally taking the roses. "Why when you say it like that does it sound perverted?" She asks, frowning slightly.

"Don't blame me just because your mind's in the gutter, Ms Paulsen."

She smiles softly. _They were good together._ "Goodnight Stephen." She says quietly, moving to pass him. He stops just in front of the door. She pauses, waiting for him to decide what he's doing. Slowly he moves in, leaning straighter to kiss her on the cheek. It's chaste, and she's not adverse to it.

"Goodnight Donna." He says, before walking past her. She turns, watching him walk down the street; and wonders where he's going.

It's then she realises,

She's not in trouble,

**_She's in deep shit._**

* * *

It's something that occurs to her as she's dressing for work. She doesn't feel the need to look particularly beautiful. With Stephen she found herself wearing new dresses, with plunging back and necklines. But with Harvey... somehow now it seems pointless; and even more than that if she walks into the office wearing Cavalli; not only will Harvey wonder what's going on; but also Stephen would be on her like a rash.

_She doesn't want a target on her back after all..._

So instead, she dresses modestly, in a light grey skirt and black ruched top; and abates the urge to wear her louboutins; until something in her kicks against it all and she throws them on anyway.

_Come hell or high water heels are the way to go..._

She ignores the red roses on her dressing table as she picks up her bag to leave.

When she gets to the office, Mike is waiting with another 'I'm sorry' specialised beverage of choice; except this time his face isn't saying sorry.

"Morning Michael," She says carefully, eyeing him as he straightens against her cubicle with a purpose..

"Morning Donna," He says, the open-endedness in his words making her suspicious. "How was your evening?" He asks, an almost insubordinate questioning on his face.

"Let me guess," She sighs. "Rachel?"

"I know nothing... Unless there's something I _should know_...?" He says.

Unfortuntely he's not quite mastered 'coy'...

"Cut the crap. If you don't tell me what she told you I'll revoke ALL your privileges."

"I have privileges?" He asks, his nose crinkling.

"Mike," She warns, letting the warmth of the mocha slide down her throat with an indulgence.

"She told me everything." He says finally.

"Everything Everything?" She asks, eyes wide.

"_Everything Everything_."

"**Everything, What?**"

They both jump at the distinct sound of his voice as Harvey appears behind them; his face cautious as the morning paper hangs in his hands.

"Nothing. I'll uh...leave you two." Mike says pointedly, watching Donna's eyes grow wider as he saunters past, ignoring the look Harvey gives him.

She swallows heavily as he watches her. There is a difference with them. Something bubbling and easy under the surface. It reminds her of when they first met, full of fire and challenge and ease that isn't there anymore.

"Where's mine?" He asks, pointing to her drink.

"Mike bought me this. One of his many 'apology' beverages." She says proudly.

"Where's mine?" He repeats.

"_You need no apology_." She says, popping a hip. He ignores her, rolling his eyes as he takes the mocha out of her hands and takes a sip.

"Hey. It says 'Donna' on that cup!" She says irritably.

He nods in agreement, taking the opportunity to analyse the flavour. She sighs, watching him, as he places the coffee back into her hand, licking his lips deliberately.

"It's..._not bad_." He says, watching her.

She's not sure about the shiver running down her back. It makes her uneasy.

"It's delicious and you know it." She chides.

When he moves to take the cup again she moves away, frowning. "Get your own, Specter."

"Isn't my assistant supposed to do that?" There is a playfulness in his eyes, verging on a challenge.

"Your 'assistant' is already doing _more_ than she's required to do. Maybe you should lay off of her?"

"Maybe I like_ laying on_ her," His jaw hardens as a smirk creeps into his features.

"Harvey..." She warns, her eyes darting around self consciously to the people passing them.

"What?" He shrugs, feigning ignorance.

"Alright Mister, I'm revoking your cubicle privileges. Get out of my office. Now!" She says, eyes wide, pointing at him as she then places her cup next to her computer with a huff.

He grins, wandering into his office.

She lets out a sigh, and finally sits at her desk.

"Donna?" He asks through the intercom.

"He's on his way."

"Thank you."

* * *

The rest of the afternoon is met with the usual gambit of jobs; filing, farming calls, deterring Norma from getting into Harvey's office and all with Mike and Harvey darting out of the office periodically to develop more strategy on the Hessington Oil case. Since Harvey kicked Stephen off of the case, Stephen had very wisely kept his distance of Harvey's fraying temper; and whatever words they had had, Donna was still not completely aware of.

She's pretty sure she can guess along what kind of things have been said; but the fact that for the first time she's the only one _not in the know_ is a frustration; especially when it considers her.

And that, _she's sure of._

"Well, if it isn't my favourite assistant."

She internally sighs, as she looks up to glassy greeny blues and a self satisfied smirk.

"'Executive' assistant. And did you forget what I said about work? This is _Harvey's office_, you're on enemy territory; I will not be held responsible for what happens if he finds you here."

"There's something so 'Romeo and Juliet' about that. I like the challenge." He says, smiling at her.

She knows what he's doing. _He's playing with fire._ "Stephen, I said I needed time," She warns.

"I know that. But... I miss you."

"Miss the sex, you mean?"

"No. I told you... _I like you_. As a person. As rare as it is to find that in a woman as beautiful as you."

"Stop it," She says, her eyes surveying the hall.

"Have dinner with me." He presses, leaning slightly over the top of her desk.

"I..." She falters, thoughts cramming up her head space.

"Just dinner." He says, simply.

"_Stephen...I,_" She smiles, completely at a loss.

**"What the hell are you doing here?"**

The voice comes out of nowhere, until her eyes zero in on Harvey, looking severe but contained with Mike in tow. Mike's face is priceless, like he's watching a snake tackle a cute little mouse. She'd comment on it if the alarm bells of danger weren't ringing vibrantly in her head.

"Nothing. He's just leaving. Right, Stephen...?" She jumps in, trying to neutralize the situation.

"Of course. _Donna,_" He says, his eyes saying 'I'll call you'.

She watches Harvey, who doesn't miss the look, watch his counterpart walk all the way down the hall, until his eyes flash back to hers.

And he is not happy.

"Mike. I need to talk to Donna. I trust that you can finish off the paperwork?" He says, his eyes still locked with hers.

"Of course." Mike says, tempering the alarm in his voice at their sudden change of plan. He seems happy to be out of it, taking the file from Harvey quicker than she's ever seen and disappearing in a flash. _Probably stopping off at Rachel's office on the way..._

"Donna. My office. _**Now**_." He says, marching through the door.

She presses 'divert to answerphone' on her phone, slowly rising from her seat. It's like a meeting with the headmaster over toilet papering his car all over again... If she'd have _slept_ with her headmaster, that is.

She closes the door.

"You didn't break it off with him, did you?" He accuses, firing of immediately. This was the reaction she'd been waiting for since everything began. She was unsure why she'd welcomed it in the first place.

"Yes, I did. I told him everything. He's just not... in agreement with the decision." She says, carefully.

"About us...?" He asks. "Donna, did you tell him what happened between us?" He repeats, watching her every move.

She can't lie to him. He already knows the answer anyway. He shakes his head walking around his desk.

"If I told him, he'd tell Darby; do you really want that in the mix, too?"

"Bullshit. You have feelings for him, don't you?" He says, the weight of his words sharpen her, her back becoming ramrod straight.

"Harvey,"

"He doesn't even know, does he? That anything's changed? _Because it hasn't_." He says, almost throwing the words at her.

"Harvey. I haven't... we haven't done anything since _you and I_..."

"That doesn't make a difference; Donna. Your head's the problem. I can't believe you..." He whips around then, his temper flaring only causing her to unravel hers.

"Harvey...what do you expect, huh? You know I've been having...an affair, of sorts with him. You knew that and you still came after me."

"You could have said no," He fires at her.

"I can't ever say 'No' to you, Harvey. Don't you know that by now?"

"And what, that's supposed to be an excuse? A silver lining? What do you want?" He asks.

"I..." She stumbles on the answer.

"Donna. What do you want? You need to decide now..."

"I want what I told _him_ I wanted. What I told you I wanted from the beginning. **Time**. To figure things out. Neither is choice I can make lightly,"

"You shouldn't even have to think about it..." He says, the words raw as his shoulders set.

"Harvey I... that maybe be so in a perfect world. But on one hand I have a guy who just happens to have fallen for me whilst trying to get back at his Ex's ex. He screwed up, but he appears to want something that's actually feasible. And then on the other hand, I have **_you_**... my Boss, of eleven, nearly twelve years; a _Boss_ that I have watched bed more women than Hefner and never had a bad word to say about it, **might I add**. And to make things worse you suddenly change **everything**; the entire playing field, so much so that now we only have two options; move forward into the chaos where I work with you and for you and yes, my life pretty much revolves around you anyway so why not just lump sex into it; or I have the option to just... stand still... for a second, out of the chaos and be objective about things. Which do think is the best choice to make?" She can't help as the sarcasm props up her words.

He sighs heavily.

She's right. It's not pretty, but she's right. He reluctantly swallows the fact.

"Do you really see a future with that guy?" He asks.

"I don't...I don't think so, but... we had something, Harvey. And I can't ignore that."

"What about what _**we**_ have?"

"Harvey,"

"At least when I was having casual sex with all those women, I knew the difference. Like I know the difference now. You need to decide."

It throws her. It's the things that he alludes to that catch her off guard the most. _The half-feelings and suggestions of more_. For a second she's warm and tingly inside. But he can't see that. All he can see is her standing, expressionless in the middle of his office.

He's done then; she can see it in his gait, that finality. The conversation is over.

She never usually challenges it...

"Harvey." She protests, moving towards him.

"Don't 'Harvey' me. Decide, Donna. I won't wait forever, and you're right,"

"What?" She asks.

"...**we can't go back now**."

Rock,

Her...

_Hard Choice..._


	4. Chapter 4

Notes: I started writing this before 'She's Mine' Aired. It put a slight halt on the plot, but hopefully it still runs.

* * *

**_FIRE - By Atheniandream_**

**_CHAPTER 4_**

* * *

_'My love_

_Come home to me_

_Just for a while_

_I'll leave this_

_Why can't you stay?_

_Don't run away,_

_Don't slip away my dear,' ~ 'The Fall' By Rhye_

* * *

_**"...we can't go back now."**_

The words hang in the air around her bed; thick and scratching at every nerve in her body. She huffs, turning roughly on her side as her eyes wince at her bedside clock through her thick red hair.

_Was she the only one in the world who thought that the choice was a hard one?_

Harvey seemed to think it was simple. In some ways it was. _What they had…_ could still have was unique; lopsidedly 'them' in a nutshell, perfectly formed. From the day they'd met they'd stuck together like glue; ripping in and out of each other's lives like they were formed out of the corresponding velcro.

But things had changed. _Harvey_ had changed. She worried that she was the only one who hadn't.

He had been so light, so open and eager for the world when they'd first fallen into each others lives; they'd worked so perfectly together that neither had the time to even blink. But there had been moments, moments where he'd look at her, eager to get into her head and figure out her secrets just to know her better. He was arrogant, even back then, but had been softer somehow, naive, self effacing, honest. She wondered, if all of these years it hadn't been his _mother_ that had ruined him,

_It had been **her**..._

Had they continued on that path; would she have been another forgotten casualty? Another woman to warm his sheets in the night to be forgotten months after?

She would never apologise for herself. She was who she was and he knew that.

_ But regret,_

Regret wasn't so easy to disregard.

And the only way to stop the regret,

Would be to talk about it.

_Regardless of the hour..._

* * *

**_"I don't know how to say it, so I'm just gonna come out and say it: I don't wanna lose you...come work for me."_**

**_"What?" She frowned._**

**_"Don't go to Scadden, I took a job at my old firm…" "I was hoping you'd be happy?"_**

* * *

She knocks on the hardwood; shuffling as she hugs her coat around herself.

She hears the padding of feet down the hall and curses his complete lack of momentum.

When the door opens, there's already a lopsided smirk waiting for her. He starts to smile, until he spies the pyjamas poking out from under her coat.

"Are we having a sleepover?" He asks, amused at the state of her; her ruffled hair around her face and make up smudged eyes staring back out at him.

"Can I come in?" She asks.

"It's 3.30 in the morning, Donna?" He points out, stifling a yawn.

"You can tell time; so cute." Her face falls immediately after her retort. "I need to talk to you."

"Couldn't this wait until the morning?"

"Don't you think we've aired out enough of our dirty laundry at the office?" She says, shuffling once more.

He turns around, walking back down the hall as she shuts the door behind them, following him into the kitchen as he flicks on the coffee maker, before turning back around to face her.

"So, what's on your mind?" He asks, leaning against the white kitchen counter.

"Okay. This is..._not_ easy for me to say…"

"Is this about Stephen?" He blurts out onto the kitchen cabinets, placing his cup on the counter with a heavy clank.

"**No** Harvey," She fires, her eyes sharpening. "This isn't about him, this is about _us_…geez." She huffs, looking away from him at the sheer audacity of it all.

"Sorry." He says quietly, waiting for her to continue.

"I know I said that we should never talk about it,"

"The Other time?" He offers. It's the only thing they _**don't** _talk about...

"Yeah. But… it's sticking in my head like broken goddamned record..." She says, shaking her head.

"What about it?"

Her face contorts; holding the surface of emotion from escaping out of her eyes. "When you asked me to meet you; at the diner that morning, I…" She pauses.

"What?" He frowns, moving off of the counter.

She sighs. _There is no right way to say it._ "I thought that you wanted to be with me."

"Donna I,-" He starts, but she interrupts before he can elaborate.

"Just let me… finish, okay? I," She stops for a moment, levelling her expression. "I thought that you had asked me there, because you wanted us to…_to be together_… like _normal people_. And then it wasn't about that, and you know I love my job. I do, and I don't regret accepting your offer, but. **_We did everything backwards, Harvey_**. For a second, when I realised what you _weren't_ offering it just… it broke me. For a second. I came to the firm because you wanted me to. But I would have been happier...if you had just wanted to be _with me_."

She feels empty when she finishes, like she's just regurgitated ten years of unsaid things. His face falls for a second until he looks her in the eye.

"Donna. I know I screwed that up. I should have thought about things before, but... I never thought for a _second_ that you would actually** keep to the damn rule!** And especially not break it for some guy you just met..."

"Harvey…you know why I had it," She warns.

"I thought we were better than it. Was **_he_** better than it?" He asks, bare accusal lacing his words.

"Harvey, you know I," Shakes her head, chewing on her lip. _It's the thorn in his side still..._

"I can't take back going to your apartment...and I won't." He says, a weight to his words.

"It's not enough Harvey," She says, moving the weight between her feet in frustration.

He bows his head, a second worth of thought, before he skirts the breakfast bar to stand in front of her.

"You know what I told Jessica?"

"What?" She asks finally looking up at him where her attention is caught by his unruly hair.

"I told her I wouldn't take the job unless I could bring _you_ with me." He says; his brown eyes staring out at her; solid and steady.

"It's still not enough…" She admits sadly, the tears sliding ever so slightly, encased by lashes and a frown.

He steps closer then, their feet almost touching.

"Ten years ago...I was _crazy_ about you. I was six years ago; _five years ago_. And I'm crazy about you now, Donna."

She looks at him, her eyes blinking slowly as he stares back at her, waiting.

_She suddenly wonders if he's always been waiting..._

"Well couldn't you have just told me that… _ten years ago_?" She says limply, her hands flapping in frustration as a smile grows slowly on her face.

He smiles too, despite her conflicted outburst. "Really, would it have been better if I had? At least," He says, moving closer to her; her eyes watching his every move as his fingers play with edges of her silk camisole. "If we screw it up now; we've had ten years of a good run... right?." He says, watching her.

"If we screw it up, we lose everything, Harvey. I want to keep it all." She says, the seriousness not lost on him.

_She's always been the rational one. They both know it._

"Then it's time for another condition." He says, standing tall despite the hour.

"You really think that's wise?" She eyes him, unsure.

"I think it'll help _you_. The condition is, that if it doesn't work out; we remain friends; we remember that work is important to us **_both_** and we work out how to make it work, like we did before."

"Since when did you become the accommodating one in the relationship?" She smirks tiredly at him.

"I've been listening to you for over ten years, Donna…you rub off on people." He says tenderly, his hands resting on her hips as he pulls her into him. "So...is this you... choosing?" There is an odd shyness in his question that he really gives away any more.

"If I say no, does that mean you're gonna kick me out?" She asks carefully. She's aware that she's dancing on his nerve, but it's important to her. Important not to jump in to anything on either side. She's aware that it's her problem, not his.

"Just say what you mean, Donna." He says bluntly.

"I just mean...that I want you hold me. And I want to sleep in that god awful bed that's housed _so many_ women." She says, her nose crinkling at her knowledge of his conquests. She never did approve.

His smile falls, but his resolve remains steady as he questions her.

"You can't keep him on retainer. It either works with us or it doesn't." He warns.

"I know. But maybe… we should just… take a few days, _see how the both sides of the land lie together_?" She says, her hands resting on his forearms.

"Is that a euphemism?" He asks, smirking at her.

_She is not amused and he still doesn't get it._

"We've screwed at work, Harvey; it's not like we can make it this worse for ourselves, But," The word lingers, the options of everything going to shit run through her head at double speed.

"I like that you're going with the positive approach," He remarks, his hands moving around her back, finally allowing him to pull her flush to him as he kisses down the column of her throat.

"Well, something's positive." She says, waiting for him to question the smarmy look on her face. He ignores it, his hand flattening just above her ass as it encourages pyjama flannel out of the way, pushing them even closer together.

"Now that's gotta be a euphemism," He growls slightly in reply as she leans back in a peel of laughter.

"You're smart? Did anyone ever tell you that?" She offers, smiling then.

"It may have come up once or twice…" He says kissing her shoulder.

"Bad'um-tish." She half-jokes.

"Stop. I'm trying to have a moment here?" He says, a mock-frown on his amused face.

"Sorry. Continue."

With that, he sweeps her up, making a spontaneous giggle rise in her throat as he carries her through to his bedroom, placing her on the mattress as it bends against their collective weight.

The phone ringing has them both huffing as Harvey picks it up, shaking his head at the caller i.d.

"Mike, it's nearly four in the morning." He says, irritably, his hand on his hip as the other cradles the phone.

She can tell as she watches him, that something's caught his attention. Something big. He retreats from her slightly as he nods into the phone. It worries her. "Get in for seven thirty." He commands, ending the call.

As she stares at him, waiting for him to look at her. It occurs that it's not good news for them.

"What is it?" She asks, the look on her face expecting an answer.

"Donna, I," He stumbles, his jaw setting.

"Harvey… tell me." She demands.

"Donna?" He questions. His look unnerves her more, any sudden urge she has painting the air grey.

"Tell me now."

"We know why Stephen is so interested in Ava's case," He finally says, deadpan.

"Why?" She frowns, waiting.

He sighs, rubbing his face.

"Ava didn't order those murders. **_Stephen_** did."

Suddenly the world fell into disarray, the blocks around them tumbling down.

And like that, her world became so simple, and yet so very complicated.

* * *

It's only a little Chapter because cliff hang seemed pretty good there. This fantastic show has stumped me on this fic. I shall keep a'working on it.


End file.
